


Commentfic roundup

by amy_vic



Category: Flashpoint (TV), Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Life (TV)
Genre: Divorce, Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Minor Violence, Surfing, archiving old works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 06:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amy_vic/pseuds/amy_vic
Summary: What it says on the tin; a bunch of tiny fics, first written as (or in response to) LiveJournal comments. Most of these are from way back in 2011.





	Commentfic roundup

**1\. [prompt - Catherine/Steve; how about a case where she calls them in? Maybe a murder on-base?]** (This, uh, ended up alluding to a threeway. I'd say I was sorry, but I'm not.)

Danny honestly does not know how he lets himself get dragged into situations like this. Normally, he’d blame Steve, but this time Steve’s gotten dragged in as well, so the only person left to answer for it is Catherine.

And seriously, doesn’t the Navy have their own cops for this?

Which is exactly what Danny asks the room at large, while he stands against the wall in a hotel room that, up until yesterday was home to a businessman from out of town, and then became a crime scene when the maid came to make the bed and found him still in it, missing a good chunk of forehead. The woman he’d been with the night (not his wife, surprise, surprise) before had been cooperative enough, but something just didn’t sit right, so Catherine had recruited their outside opinion. Then she’d decided to “re-create the crime scene” and she’d had a terribly well-reasoned and well-presented argument for why she’d needed their help instead of, say, a couple of guys she actually worked with, and since he knew Steve was going, Danny might as well just give in, right?

“Stop _worrying_ , Danny,” Catherine says, voice muffled through her shirt for a second as Steve yanks it over her head and throws it towards the window, “and concentrate, please. You’re our eyes on this.”

Danny closes his eyes—but he can still _hear_ them, jesus—for a second, because watching his partner and his partner’s girlfriend get naked in a hotel room in order to help figure out a cause of death is just not something that he ever thought he’d have to do.

As fast as Steve made Catherine’s shirt disappear, Catherine’s even faster, getting Steve’s t-shirt off and his pants open, then leaning in, up on her toes a little, to say something to Steve too quietly for Danny to hear from the other side of the room. Whatever it is, Steve throws his head back and laughs. He catches Danny’s eye over Catherine’s bare shoulder and grins, and Danny suddenly gets a little bit uneasy, because...this isn’t freaking him out, and shouldn’t it?

Another few minutes of watching the two of them make their way to the bed, listening to the way Catherine exhales a laugh when Steve lifts her with his arm around her hips so she doesn’t stumble against the edge of the mattress, that’s when he sees it. There’s shelves on either side of the bed, about eye level if you’re standing, with white stone sculptures artfully placed (in this hotel, they probably cost a two hundred bucks a pop, but Danny’s pretty sure he saw the same ones at IKEA when his ma took him there at Christmas), but there’s four on the left shelf, and only three on the right. “You guys, stop.” He moves closer, stands at the edge of the bed, and prays that neither Catherine nor Steve will kill him for the epic moodkiller he’s about to lay down. “Look, you guys wanna stay here and fuck all night, that’s great, but I’m gonna head out, go tell HPD they can release the hooker, because this guy’s death was an accident.”

Catherine rolls over onto her hip to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says. He points above their heads to the shelf, then points to the other one. “Death by ugly, overpriced artwork.”

They both nod, and Danny’s got his hand on the doorknob when Catherine calls to him, “Hey, Danny, when you’re done talking to the uni’s, come back up here, okay?”

“What?”

Catherine shrugs and sits up, tracing idle circles over Steve’s knee. The grin she gives him is 49% _I'm just being reasonable_ and 51% _You're not going to know what hit you, but you'll love every second of it_. “Well, the room’s paid up for another day and half; no reason it should sit empty.”

Danny is so very, _very_ fucked, and that is absolutely fine with him.

 

 **2\. [prompt - Hawaii Five-0, Steve/Danny, Kono storms in like a knight in shining armor to rescue the boys.]** (This ended up being gen, whoops.)

Either cell reception’s shit, or the battery on Danny’s phone is dying, because Kono has to yell to be heard over the crackle of static. “Are either of you hurt?”

There’s another burst of static, something muted that sounds a little like screaming, and then worse. Silence. Kono doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath until she turns, bangs her hip on a corner of the table, and it all goes out in a huff. She sets her phone down, puts it on speaker so she can finish pinging their GPS. “Danny, answer me, are you _hurt_?”

“We’re okay,” the answer comes nearly a full two minutes later, and it’s Steve, not Danny, doing the talking. “Danny’s gonna need a medic, but we’re okay.”

(Which makes no sense, because why would they need a medic if they’re okay? But Steve knows what he’s talking about, so Kono nods—not like he can see her, but it gives her a moment to focus, clear her head—and goes with it.)

The table beeps then, bringing up their location. She plans on having a very serious talk with them later, because they were supposed to be in Haleiwa, not a quarter of the island away in the middle of the mountains. “Move,” she says, pointing her hands like they can see her. “There’s a clearing about a thousand yards east of you, I want you standing on the edge of it when I get there in thirty minutes.”

“Okay, thanks.” Reception goes fuzzy once more then, so Kono makes him repeat her instructions back to her, just in case. “One thousand yards east, thirty minutes. Understood, Kono.” 

She can see them before the helicopter lands, forty minutes later, and the fact that she can clearly make out the blood on Danny’s leg and the way that his kneecap looks, even from this far out, has her scanning the treeline behind them, gun in hand, safety off. 

“You’re late,” Danny says, face scrunched tight in pain as they climb aboard, “Steve said you’d be here in half an hour.”

Kono grins. “Brah, I’m _ten minutes_ late. You want I should leave, you can walk back to the office?”

“My hero,” Danny amends, and then the doctor advances on him with a syringe half-full of Demerol, and then he just laughs for a while.

 

 **3\. [prompt - Catherine AND an OFC. Navy chicks kick ass.]** (Not an OFC, but a crossover AU with the show Flashpoint.)

Catherine works with a great bunch of guys. Sure, she’d had a rocky start, being the only woman on the team, but once she let them all know that she wasn’t there to be The Girl On The Team, things settled down. And, yeah, she may have had to bruise Ensign McElroy’s ribs that time in OCS when he "accidentally" brushed up against her in the hallway on the way to the head, but they’ve moved up in the ranks since then, and now he’s like her brother. (Her brother who outranks her even though he’s two years younger then she is and has less combat experience, but whatever.) 

So when Ensign Callaghan shows up, yeah, Catherine worries about her. Physically, she’s tiny, can’t be more than five-two, and on the few occasions that Catherine’s spoken to her outside of work, she’s always seemed...quiet. Not cagey, like she’s hiding anything, just that she likes to play things close to the vest. Which is perfectly fine, but you also have to have a certain amount of trust in the people you work with.

Catherine catches up to her in the parking lot one night. "Hey, Jules. A few of us are going for a round down at Lennie’s. You in?"

Jules smiles as she lets her head fall back and rolls it from shoulder to shoulder. Catherine knows exactly how she feels. It’s been a long-ass day, and Catherine’s pretty sure the only thing to make it go away is about six beers, a couple shots of vodka, and three orgasms. (She might even call Steve later, ask him if he wants to help with that last thing. But maybe not; he’s good, but she’s better.) "I am definitely in, yes."

Lennie’s is not a Navy bar. It’s just a nice, out of the way place where you can have a few drinks, relax, maybe shoot some pool, and not get hassled. Usually.

They aren’t there twenty minutes before some guy sidles up to them, stepping right in between them, cutting Catherine off mid-sentence as he says to Jules, "Hey, sweetheart, can I buy you a drink?"

Catherine rolls her eyes so hard it hurts. She can’t see Jules—the guy’s about five-ten and stocky, like a boxer—but she hears her snort. "No, thanks, I’ve got one. Also, you just completely interrupted my friend; I don’t know if you saw, but we’re in the middle of a conversation. Mind taking off?"

The guy swears, and Catherine sees him reach out to grab Jules’ arm; she reaches out to yank him back, tell him to mind his own goddamn business, but Jules is half a second faster. She gets the guy facedown on the bar, _hard_ , and doesn’t even spill anyone’s drinks. He cries out, mainly in surprise, but possibly also in pain, considering the angle Jules has his arm bent at.

"I grew up with four brothers," Jules says, calmly twisting the guy’s hand even further behind his back, and Catherine can see that his fingers are already purple, "So do me a favour, take all your macho bullshit and go sit the fuck down, okay? You’re embarrassing yourself."

They both do a surprisingly good job of not laughing until Jules has let him go, and he’s slinking back to his buddies in the back corner. 

 

**4\. [prompt - Kono & Steve, huddling for warmth (and never talking about it again)]**

It figures, the one time Steve *doesn’t* say, "Let’s split up," is also the time when the bad guys get the drop on them. Which is how Kono ends up in a walk-in freezer wearing nothing but board shorts and a t-shirt, cursing her stupid, shitty luck. Steve knows she hits the beach on her days off, knows not to call her unless it’s an absolutely emergency, and what does he do? Calls her first, because it’s Danny’s weekend with Grace and Chin’s off having lunch with Malia, which Kono hadn’t known about before Steve told her, but you can damn well bet she’s going to find out what _that’s_ all about once she can feel her fingers enough to work her phone. And find a place that isn’t a steel box to call from, since her phone is helpfully displaying a ‘No Service’ icon. Her hands are too cold to register on the touchscreen, too, so she can’t even play games while she waits to freeze to death. 

It helps a little, though, knowing that Steve’s stuck in here with her. Of course, he’s wearing pants and two shirts, so Kono still kind of hates him. She also hates him on principle, because everyone who’s ever watched a horror movie *knows* you don’t walk into the scary-looking room without making sure you can get out of it alive and with all your limbs intact. 

"Would you stop that?" she snaps. They’ve only been in here twelve minutes, according to her watch, and Steve hasn’t stopped moving since the door slammed shut. He’s hustling around, pulling things off shelves, presumably looking for items with which to ninja them both out of here. He’s also giving the freezer door a good solid boot every time he passes it, and the echo is starting to give Kono a headache. "You’re going to break it or something, and then we’ll be trapped forever." 

Steve looks up from whatever he’s doing with...a package of bacon? Okay, yes, a package of bacon. Kono’s not even going to ask. "Don’t worry; it’ll be okay." 

Kono snorts, because, seriously? Super-SEAL over here is trying to open a hundred-pound, vacuum-locked steel freezer door with frozen pork, she’s standing here watching her toes slowly turn purple in the flip-flops, and everything’s going to be okay? Riiiiight. She just wraps her arms tighter around her belly and goes to crouch down next to the sacks of vegetables piled against the far wall. It’s marginally warmer down here, since the fans aren’t blowing freezing air directly on her. "I don’t want to talk to you right now." 

(Yeah, she’s pouting. The grown-up parts of her brain are starting to freeze solid, okay?) 

Steve continues with the bacon, and the next thing Kono knows, he’s kneeling next to her, pressing two somethings on either side of her face, and Kono has to blink her eyes for a minute before realizing that the somethings are his hands. "Warm," she says, and tilts her head in an attempt to trap his hand between her face and her shoulder. She is really fucking sleepy, and if he would just let her close her eyes for a minute... 

He doesn’t; he pinches her ear, and it’s so painful and so unexpected that she yelps and bats it away clumsily. "Stay awake for me, okay, Kono?" Steve says, and then he’s taking off his outer shirt and wrapping it around her. It’s a really nice shade of blue; it also feels really warm, since it’s more fabric than just her t-shirt, and it smells good. It’s a good shirt, Kono decides. "Come on, come help me with this." 

"This" turns out to be shoving things around and hanging sacks of who-knows-what off the fan housings in an attempt to cut down on the cold air being piped in. Steve’s gotten most of the shoving and piling done already, but since the fans are nine feet up and he can’t quite reach them, he coaxes Kono up onto his shoulders, keeping his hands solidly on her thighs while she curses in three languages at all the air blowing directly on her upper body until she’s got the bag good and blocked in over the fan and Steve is kneeling down so that she can stand on the floor. She looks around, realizing that Steve’s basically built them their own little bunker in the middle of the room, shelves dragged into a horseshoe facing the door, fortified by bags and boxes of stuff in order to help insulate them. He’s even ripped apart a few cardboard boxes and set them on the floor, which Kono thinks is awesome, because she’s seen that movie with the kid and the steel pole, she knows what would happen if her bare legs touch the floor of this place. 

Steve seems to have given up on the bacon chisel for now, and instead sits down on the cardboard and pulls Kono down with him. She’s confused at first, because he’s got her sitting sideways against his chest, but when he starts tucking her legs up and pulling her close, she gets it. 

It’s Surf 101, something Kono hasn’t thought about for probably fifteen years, so she can be forgiven for not remembering. If you’re ever caught out in the water and can’t make it back to shore, curl up on your board, make yourself as small as you can, because it’ll keep more of your body heat in. 

(Ian used to make her practice it, right there on the sand in front of the house. After her knee gave out, her physical therapist suggested yoga. The child pose is still her favourite.) 

"Um," Kono says, after a moment of _holy shit, Steve gives off a lot of body heat_. Because once the initial rush of ‘hey, I’m warmer, thank god’ goes away, she’s left with the knowledge that, but for a few thin layers of fabric, she is pressed skin to skin with her boss. Which could maybe, possibly, get awkward at the office tomorrow? "Can this be one of those things that happens that we just don’t ever discuss again?" 

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Steve says, and Kono watches as the corner of his mouth twitches. This is why they quit having team poker/barbeque nights. "We’ve never had any of those things." 

And Kono wants to laugh, because they’ve had those moments, oh man, have they ever. Starting with that one undercover op, where Steve had to help wire her up, and ending with the time that Kono forgot her laptop at work, and walked back in just in time to see that Catherine had apparently finished her tour in the Met three weeks early and was instead busy taking a tour of Steve in the middle of Steve’s office. 

"You’re right," Kono says, and she absolutely does not curl closer against Steve’s chest. "We don’t have any of that." 

Not long after, the freezer door gets yanked off it’s hinges, and Chin and Danny are there, armed to the teeth and backed up by an ambulance full of thick, heavy blankets and warm IV’s. Turns out that GPS tracking works even if your phone is literally frozen, and that Danny is really good at hooking up the winch on Steve’s truck and ripping shit apart. 

**5\. [prompt - Kono & Dani Reese (Life), shave ice]**

Tourists, Kono thinks as she tackles the guy to the ground, are stupid. Tourists that come down here to be thieves are even worse.

As she’s standing back up, cuffing the guy and handing him off to the guys in the squad car that just rolled up, she sees another guy coming towards her, not of his own volition. He’s being prodded by a woman who clearly isn’t local, but who Kono can tell is a cop even before she flips back her shirttail (with just her thumb and forefinger, rest of her hand palm out) to reveal the badge on her hip. There’s something in the set of her shoulders; Kono’s caught that in the bathroom mirror several times. 

"This one’s your as well, Officer." She’s a little out of breath, and Kono realizes that this must have been the woman she saw out of the corner of her eye as she tore off down the beach. "Detective Dani Reese." 

Kono raises an eyebrow at the badge. "You’re a hell of the way out of your jurisdiction, Detective." 

"I’m off-duty, but I feel a little naked without the badge, so..." Dani grins. 

"Yeah, I get that," Kono says, offering her hand and introducing herself. She laughs a little when Dani repeats her name back, but only because she’s never met a mainlander who could pronounce it correctly on the first try, and Dani just did it perfectly. It’s kind of shocking, in a good way. "Listen, you know there’s gonna be paperwork, want to come grab lunch, eat while we write?" 

~~~~~ 

"You ever just want to punch people in the face, get them to stop being assholes and do what you tell them?" 

Kono laughs. The fact that Dani’s mouth is green from her shave ice just makes it better. "How long are you on the island, again? Because if you’re looking for a little work, my boss would adore you." 

**6.[Written for the 'Beginnings and Endings' challenge at the h50_flashfic comm. This was my take on "Danny & Rachel explain their divorce to Grace."]**

"Does this mean you don’t love me anymore?" Grace looks at them, bewildered, and Danny’s heart breaks into _all_ of the pieces, which is a number that Grace herself taught him just last week. It comes right after a hundred. "And if you don’t live together, who’s going to take care of me?"

Danny blinks, and between when his eyes close and when they open, he sees Rachel, five years younger and six months pregnant, lying next to him in the dark, listening to him tell her that everything’s going to be fine, that he’ll always take care of her. He feels, now, like he’s failed her.

"Of course we love you, Monkey," he says, forcing himself to stay in the chair and not hug her until his arms cramp up, "and we’re both still going to take care of you, just like always. We’re just going to live in two houses, not one."

"We’re going to live in a new house in a new place, remember, I showed you on the map? Hawaii is beautiful, and I think you’ll love it. It will be a great new adventure." Rachel smiles, a little too sunnily, and Danny tries not to flinch at how hard she’s trying to sell it.

Grace nods, and Rachel looks relieved, but then Grace looks quickly at Danny and he knows she needs the real—or at least a better-explanation. "See, Gracie, Mommy and Step-Stan—"

"Daniel, I’ve asked you, please don’t call him—"

"Rach, I’m giving you nearly everything else, leave me this one little thing, please," Danny says, quiet like he thinks Grace won’t hear it, "So Mommy and Step-Stan are going to live with you in a new house in Hawaii, and I’m going to live in a different house in Hawaii." 

Grace repeats "Step-Stan" quietly to herself, with a hint of a smile on her face, and Danny feels conflicted. On one hand, he really shouldn’t be teaching his daughter to call people names. On the other hand, the guy is technically Step-Stan, and Danny feels that it’s okay (if not required outright) to instil a distinction between "Dad" and "stepfather" as soon as possible.

"If Daddy doesn’t get to live with us, can he still come over and do bedtime stories?"

Rachel hesitates, and Danny wants to sit back and smirk. ("Yeah, Rachel, explain that to our daughter. Explain how you’re paying a bunch of assholes in thousand-dollar suits to figure out when it is and is not appropriate for a father to spend time with his child.") "Well, Grace, I’m not sure. Daddy and I have been talking to some other people, and they think—"

"No, Mommy. No other people, _you_. You promise me."

And then Danny feels really, honestly bad for Rachel, because she has to look their daughter in the eye and say, "No, sweetheart, Daddy won’t be able to do bedtime stories—" and Grace looks _devastated_ , and Danny really doesn’t want to see that look on her face again until _ever_ (which is another measurement Grace taught him), so he touches Rachel’s wrist and jumps in. "But, Gracie, when you’re at my house, it’ll be like sleepovers, and we can do lots of bedtime stories then, okay? We’ll do extras." 

Grace looks down at her stuffed rabbit (Danny’s gotta buy her a new one; the poor thing is so threadbare, his stuffing’s coming loose near his tail), and pokes at his nose. Danny can’t figure out the expression on her face. After a minute, she frowns and looks up. "Hawaii is the one with all the spiky fruit, isn’t it? The yellow stuff?" 

"Pineapple, right." 

"But I don’t _like_ pineapple, Mommy. How can I live there if I don’t like the fruit?" 

Danny knew that was coming, but it blindsides Rachel, and makes her laugh. 

(Maybe they’ll make it through this after all.) 

**7\. [prompt - how about Kono and Mary Ann arguing over how best to teach Gracie how to surf; Mary's all about just throwing her out in the ocean and seeing what happens, while Kono's a little more cautious (mostly because she doesn't want Danny to have a stroke)]**

So, four things happen pretty much at once: Grace asks if she can have surfing lessons, Danny’s face turns an alarming shade of red, Kono says, "I could teach her, you know. All it would cost you is the board, and I can get you a deal on a great one," and Mary Ann walks out of Steve’s office just in time to chime in with, "Hey, Kono, you’re teaching Grace how to surf? Want some company? I haven’t had a chance to catch decent waves since I’ve been back." 

Which is how Danny finds himself completely outvoted and driving Grace to a stretch of beach near the Marine Corps base at an ungodly hour one Saturday morning. Grace is sitting next to him, chattering away at top speed—but medium volume, thank god, she wouldn’t let him stop for coffee—about how much fun this is going to be, and how cool her new surfboard is. (Regardless of how opposed Danny is to his little girl being thrown into the ocean with nothing but a piece of vinyl-wrapped foam, he will concede that it’s a cute piece of vinyl-wrapped foam; it’s purple on one end, fading to blue on the other, with big pink and white flowers all over it. Kono spent three hours at the Coral Prince shop with Grace, showing her all the different boards and helping her pick one out.) 

Kono and Mary are already there, sitting on the hood of Kono’s car, watching the water. They both slide off when Danny pulls up next to them and parks, Grace scrambling out almost before she’s got her seatbelt off and launching herself at Kono. 

"We’ll call you when we’re done and going for lunch, okay? You can meet us." 

"But—" 

"Danny." Kono fixes him with a gaze that, honestly, intimidates him a little more than he's comfortable with, but he covers it well. "We’re fine, and you standing on the beach making your own version of Aneurysm Face will not help anything. Now please go away. We’ll see you later." 

Danny holds Grace’s hand a little tighter. She just looks so small, and Danny recalls with sudden, perfect clarity, the entire forty-minute, white-knuckled drive home from the hospital when she was two days old. "Grace is—" 

"Grace will be absolutely fine. I’ve been on a surfboard since before I could walk, Mary’s done about the same, and I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re on a section of beach where the biggest waves barely come up to my shoulder. Plus, if, god forbid, something happens, you know that I’m fully certified in first aid and CPR, there are four hospitals within five minutes by car, and you’ve seen Mary drive."

Danny bends down and looks at Grace. "Look, Gracie, are you sure you want to do this? Really, really sure?" 

"Dad," she says calmly, drawing the word out into about seven syllables and holding out her hands in a way that makes Mary Ann choke back a laugh, because oh my god, Grace is such her father’s daughter, "Kono was a _professional_ at this, you know; that means she is extra-good at surfing. Plus, I am almost eight years old, and there are kids in my class who have been surfing since they were _babies_. I really, really want to learn to surf. Super really really want to." 

Danny drops his head down and stares at the sand for so long that Kono is about to poke him in the shoulder, make sure he’s not stuck that way. When he looks up at her, it’s with unmistakable fear, but also something...else. "Okay. I can’t argue with super really really want to." 

Mary snickers. "Just wait til Grace super really really wants a tattoo." 

"You have a tattoo?" Grace all but shrieks, and Danny isn’t sure if he wants to drown himself or Mary more, "Dad, can I get a tattoo?" 

"Monkey, we will talk about tattoos again in about ten years, okay. Right now, it is time for you to go with Mary and Kono for a surf lesson. Ladies, I am leaving my only daughter in your very capable hands, please do not allow her to drown or anything." 

Four hours later, as Grace runs literal circles around him, telling all about the wave she "actually surfed on, Dad, it was _huge_ , and it was only a teeny bit scary, but mostly fun, like flying," (Kono shakes her head and holds her hands about two feet apart), Danny calms down enough to realize that maybe Grace learning to surf isn’t such a bad idea. 

~end~


End file.
